


It's a Year

by Blink_Blue



Series: Tumblr Prompts (Coliver) [24]
Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Anniversary, Fluff, Insecurity, Jealousy, M/M, Romance, Smut, instead of the lies, just imagine them being honest with each other, sort of, the bar they met in ep 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-28 18:45:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8458825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blink_Blue/pseuds/Blink_Blue
Summary: A year later, Connor and Oliver find themselves back at the bar they met.





	

“What are we doing here?” Connor looks around the crowded bar dubiously. It’s just past ten on a Friday night, and though Connor was definitely up for a few drinks after a nice dinner out with Oliver, he wasn’t exactly excited about hanging out at the bar they first met. “This place is kind of lame. There are way nicer bars that we could have gone to.”

Oliver grins at him over his drink—Maker’s Manhattan. There’s no need to explain why he ordered this specific drink for them.

“Come on, Connor,” Oliver goads, leaning closer to be heard over the sea of voices surrounding them. “It’s the beginning of the semester, it’s… kind of a special date for us!”

Connor’s lips fall open and he raises a skeptical eyebrow. “I thought we agreed this _wasn’t_ an anniversary.”

“I—I know,” Oliver says softly, setting his glass down and letting his shoulders drop a bit. “I know what we said. But… it’s been a _year,_ Connor. I know it’s not _really_ our anniversary, but it’s a _year…_ I can’t help but think it’s kind of a big deal.”

A small grin pulls at the corners of Connor’s lips. He should have known. This explains why Oliver dragged him out to their favorite restaurant and even ordered wine from the ‘fancy’ menu. Connor swirls his glass gently on the table, watching the cherries spin around and around. “I’m really glad we made it this far, Ollie.” Connor bites his lip, waiting for Oliver to meet his gaze. “I know we’ve been through a lot together this past year. This past… crazy, whirlwind of a year. And… we’re both still here.” He swallows nervously and nods. “You’re right. It is a big deal.”

Oliver smiles softly at him under the dim lights of the bar. “Thank you,” he says gently.

“You must hate this place though,” Connor says, looking around. “Your old office is right upstairs… aren’t you afraid of bumping into old coworkers?”

Oliver shakes his head, giving a casual shrug of his shoulders. “I really don’t care,” he says lightly.

Connor chews his lip nervously. “I kind of do,” he says softly.

“What?”

Connor pushes his glass away from him, looking around rather than at Oliver. “I hate this place.” He hasn’t been back here since the day he met Oliver… one year ago. He cocks an eyebrow at Oliver’s questioning look. “Come on, I didn’t exactly have good intentions when I talked to you that day. I only approached you because you looked shy and nerdy, and I knew I could get in your pants,” Connor shrugs his shoulders and looks away again, feeling shame spread through him like a burn. “I was an ass.”

“You’re still an ass,” Oliver says, but there’s a soft smile on his lips.

Connor rolls his eyes. “The point is I _used_ you. I’m not proud of it. I—I was a different person back then… and it’s kind of something I’d rather not think about.”

“I get it, Connor.” Oliver says soothingly, his eyes never leaving the other man’s face. “I think we were both different people back then. “But believe me, you didn’t make me do anything I didn’t want to.”

“Thank you,” Connor whispers, grateful for the other man’s words.

Oliver nods, his eyes trailing over Connor’s face. He’s amazed how far they’ve come in only a year. Sure, today isn’t their official anniversary—they didn’t really become a couple until months later, but it’s been a year since Connor Walsh came into his life, and upheaved it like a tornado.

“You know, I was shocked when you talked to me that night,” Oliver says, trying to lighten the mood—it is supposed to be a fun date night, after all. “I kept waiting for you to say it was just a prank, or something. I don’t know, something you’re friends put you up to.”

Connor smirks and rolls his eyes. “Is it really so hard to believe that I might’ve been into you?”

“Kind of,” Oliver says with a laugh. “I didn’t really seem your type. It turns out you’re just really into hacker boys who can break the law for you.”

“Hey, that’s not the only reason that I was into you!” Connor says indignantly.

“Oh yeah?” Oliver laughs lightly, eager to fish for compliments. “What other reasons were there?”

Connor grins and shifts in his seat. “Well,” he starts softly. “I saw you from across the room, and you were with a bunch of your coworker buddies. They all seemed bros,” Connor says the word with the same tone of voice whenever he mentions Asher. “You stood out like a sore thumb—in a good way. You caught my eye immediately, with your dorky glasses and your well fitting suit.”

“Dorky glasses?” Oliver says with a laugh.

“I loved them,” Connor clarifies. “And when we started talking, you kept… laughing nervously at everything I said. You blushed every time I _blatantly_ made a pass at you. It was _adorable._ ”

Oliver grins, fighting the urge to blush again. “And afterwards? When we kept hooking up?”

“Well afterwards,” Connor shrugs, trying to put feelings into words. “You were… you were different from all the other guys I had hooked up with before. You made me feel different. I was just happier around you. I—I felt like I could be myself… I think that was something I kind of got addicted to.”

“I think we both did,” Oliver says softly. “I mean, for me, it was mostly the fact that you’re the hottest guy whose pants I got into,” he jokes.

Connor throws his head back in laughter. “You dick,” he breathes out, a wide grin on his lips. “Thanks, Ollie.” He says seriously. “I’m glad we came out tonight.”

Oliver nods. “Me too.”

“One year, huh?” Connor shakes his head. “My college self would be having a fit right now.”

“Were you that bad in college too?” Oliver chuckles.

“Oh god,” Connor rolls his eyes as memories plague him. “I was so much worse. Be glad you didn’t meet me then.” Connor doesn’t say another word about it. He finishes off his glass and sets it down on the table with a thunk. “How about another drink? Or would you rather go home and reminisce over old episodes of the Thornbirds?”

Oliver grins. “One more drink?”

“Okay, be right back.”

Oliver leans forward a bit over the table as he watches Connor walk to the bar. Alone, he can finally admit to himself that even after all this time, he’s still curious about Connor’s old promiscuous ways. He’s well aware that those days are in the past. But Connor’s never given anything more than a few embarrassed hints that he used to sleep around… a lot. And usually it was because he wanted something from someone. Connor may not do those things anymore, but it’s still a part of him. And Oliver wants to know every part of the man he loves.

His eyes never leave Connor’s back as the other man walks away. But now Oliver straightens in his seat as he watches the scene unfold in front of him. He shouldn’t be surprised by what he sees, he shouldn’t let his heart thump nervously in his chest—but he can’t help it. It’s not unusual for Connor to draw attention—both male and female—when he walks through a room. But when Oliver sees another attractive, dashing young man vying for his boyfriend’s attention, the air in the room suddenly gets a little harder to breathe.

He can’t hear the words that are exchanged, but he sees Connor politely shake his head. Connor points to the bartender. Maybe the guy asked to buy him a drink? The fucker is insistent as hell. Connor leans to the side away from him, turning his body away—a clear fuck off to anyone who can read body language. But this guy just can’t seem to take a hint. He smirks—Oliver can see it from damn near across the room—and reaches out and lays a hand on Connor’s arm where it rests on the bar—oh _hell_ no!

_Who does this guy think he is?_

Oliver abandons their table and stomps over, immediately immersing himself in the annoyance that’s clearly radiating from Connor. Connor looks up in shock when he sees him suddenly standing so close.

“Excuse me, I believe this is mine.” Oliver’s not talking about the Maker’s Manhattan that was just placed on the counter by the bartender.

Connor smirks, clearly enjoying the rare bout of jealousy from his boyfriend. He grabs a glass in each hand, not even bothering to glance at the stranger ruining the ambiance with his presence. “Ollie, I was just about to—”

Oliver plucks one of the glasses from Connor’s hand, downs the entire drink far quicker than he should have—and he knows this from the burn down his throat as well as the wide eyed stare Connor gives him when he slams the empty glass down on the bar.

“There’s something we have to do,” Oliver growls, grabbing Connor’s arm and dragging him away from the stranger who will surely set his sights on someone else.

“What—” Connors half laughing as he stumbles over his feet, nearly spilling his full drink in his hand. “What’s going on—are you really jealous, right now?” Connor jokes. “Not that I blame you, I mean… the guy was pretty hot—”

“You’re being an ass again,” Oliver says over his shoulder, pushing open the door to the men’s room and pulling them both inside.

Thank god it’s empty.

Oliver pulls them into an empty stall. The air is suddenly thick between them in the small space.

Connor wets his lips and stares at the other man, pressed back against the door of the stall by Oliver’s warm body. “You know I wouldn’t give that guy the time of day, right?” He murmurs softly.

Oliver swallows the lump in his throat and gives a small nod.

“You know… that there’s no one but you, right?” Connor whispers. “I’ll never love anyone, the way I love you.”

A moment passes. Their breaths grow heavier. Oliver leans closer, if possible.

“Ollie…”

“I know,” Oliver finally says. And then he closes the space between them. His mouth is hot on Connor’s, his body presses tight against him, and his hands are _all over,_ pulling him closer, feeling, aching, _needing—_

Connor moans loudly when Oliver releases his lips only to attach them to neck, sucking and biting. “Who knew this side of you could be so fucking hot?”

Oliver snorts against his skin. “You’re mine,” he says simply. “I want the whole fucking world to know.”

Connor grins. “Would you settle for every person in this bathroom?”

Oliver answers by grabbing his hips and turning him roughly around, flattening him against the stall door. Connor’s glass falls to the ground, shattering into a wet puddle of broken glass. Neither of them even flinch. Oliver pulls him close, nips at Connor’s ear which draws a soft yelp from the other man. With his arms wrapped around Connor’s waist, his hands waste no time in undoing his belt, and Connor’s pants fall around his thighs. With the loss of material, he can easily feel Oliver’s cock through the thin fabric of his boxer briefs.

“Are we really going to fuck in here?” Connor gasps, as Oliver rubs his cock against his ass. “Anyone could walk in at any time, you know…”

“I don’t care,” Oliver murmurs. “Every person in this bathroom, remember?”

“Then let’s do it,” Connor presses his hips back, drawing a loud groan from Oliver’s lips.

Oliver lowers his pants in record time, spits a heavy glob into the palm of his hand and rubs it over his quickly hardening cock.

“Ollie, come on, hurry up—”

“Have some patience,” Oliver quickly wets his fingers and rubs it over Connor’s entrance. This is supposed to be an enjoyable experience for the both of them.

“We’re fucking in a bathroom, anyone could walk in—jesus christ, just put it in me—” Any further words are drowned out in a choked gasp as Oliver pushes into his body. They tremble together, struggling for breath, and Connor’s head falls back onto Oliver’s shoulder as his body slowly adjusts to Oliver’s cock inside him.

Oliver’s pressing soft kisses to his neck by the time he finds his voice again. “Ollie…” He gasps, whining softly at Oliver’s tight grip on his hips. His hands press against the door he’s flattened against, fingernails scraping at nothing. Until he raises his hands, finally finding a good grip on the top of the door. “Come on, move.” He urges. “Fuck me… fuck me like you mean it.”

Oliver eagerly obliges and gives a good thrust of his hips, so good that Connor has to bite his lip to muffle the curse that would fly out of it. A hand drops to fall on Oliver’s wrist wrapped around him. He loves this—the feeling of being held tightly, like Oliver might never let him go.

Oliver whispers Connor’s name under his breath, presses his face against Connor’s neck, and groans filthy curses that would have had him blushing any other day.

They both get a bit lost in the pleasure, in _each other,_ that both their eyes fly open when they hear the bathroom door swing open and the roar of the crowd flows into the small restroom.

“Shit,” Connor curses before Oliver’s hand quickly flies over his mouth.

They breathe heavily, not moving an inch—which is difficult for both of them, as Connor trembles in Oliver’s embrace, and Oliver has to deal with Connor’s tight heat making his head dizzy. Connor leans back into Oliver’s arms, turns his head—he just wants a soft kiss. Oliver can’t deny him, but the movement of their bodies leaves both of them moaning not so quietly.

Whoever is in the bathroom with them quickly leaves after that.

And then it’s right back to business.

It becomes rough and fast and dirty. Oliver groans and muffles his sounds by sinking his teeth into Connor’s neck. Connor has no such relief and cries loudly as Oliver’s cock strokes his prostate again and again. He feels like he’s falling apart when Oliver’s hand reaches around and grasps his cock, stroking to the pace of his thrusts.

Connor whimpers, dropping his head against the stall door—it’s almost too much, he’s _so_ fucking close. Oliver just pushes him closer and closer to the edge. And finally, he spills into Oliver’s hand, a trembling, sticky mess. Oliver quickly follows, muffling the sounds of his orgasm in the back of Connor’s neck.

They collapse, the best they can, struggling to hold each other up. Connor moans as he lifts his head, blinking against the bliss of his post orgasm haze.

“Ollie?” Connor whispers.

“Yeah?” Oliver breathes heavily behind him.

“I changed my mind,” Connor murmurs. “Maybe this place isn’t so bad…”

Oliver laughs gently, resting his face against Connor’s sweat soaked hair. “I doubt our chances of being allowed back.”

“Hey,” Connor lovingly rubs their heads together. “I know it’s not really our anniversary… but happy one year, babe.”

Oliver grins and gives Connor a soft kiss on the neck. “Happy one year.”

**Author's Note:**

> [x](http://winters-blue-children.tumblr.com)


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